Chapter 3

Ms. Whipple, Marjorie’s governess, had come highly recommended from some of Wallace’s friends in the Brahmin elite, as the particularly astute group of upper class citizens in their city was known, and even though the Joplins were not affluent enough to be considered part of that group, Wallace’s practice had gained him enough notice that he occasionally rubbed elbows with those who were considered both influential, and in many ways, chosen. In instance like this one, however, Felicity questioned her husband’s decision to hire the demanding governess. She didn’t like to see fear in either of her children’s eyes, and while her youngest was clearly afraid of shadows, the object of her oldest child’s fears was more obvious.

As soon as Marjorie had returned upstairs with Ms. Whipple, Felicity stood and removed her apron. The bread would have to wait. She poured a glass of milk and took James by the hand. He hadn’t moved since she’d scolded him about name calling, and it took him a moment to stagger forward when she pulled on his dirty fingers. Eventually, his feet followed direction, and she led him into the parlor.

Taking a seat in her favorite rocking chair, she set the milk on a nearby table and collected her child into her lap. Despite her husband’s medical expertise, Felicity had lost three children between Marjorie and James, and even now, six years later, the memory of her baby boy’s cries filling the bedroom upstairs still made her catch her breath. She loved both of her children immensely, and seeing her son this upset was troubling.

He had always been gentle, tenderhearted, and, even though he was curious about animals and plants, anything related to science, he had a way about him that was both cautious and protective. While he did love to play ball with the other boys, she knew he preferred exploration and learning. She was afraid that, if they eventually sent him off to school, he would end up the focus of some bully or prankster’s disdain because of his soft heart.

Despite feelings that she may be encouraging him to be more kindhearted than might be good for him, Felicity relished these opportunities to hold her son, and as she rocked the chair back and forth slowly, she felt his tense shoulders relax. He had his head on her shoulder, and she ran her fingers through his fine brown hair. The idea that she wouldn’t be able to do this for too much longer made her eyes tear up, and she pushed the thought away, determined to stay in the current moment.

“Mother,” his small voice said after a while, “do you believe me?”

The question was an innocent one, and even though Felicity was most certain James had not seen a Vampire on Chestnut Street in the middle of a spring day, telling him so might well crush his soul. After all, if his own mother didn’t have faith in him, who would?

On the other hand, Sadie’s warning that he was having trouble sleeping played back in her mind as well. This might be a good opportunity to assure him that he was safe.

James tilted his head to look up at her, as if he didn’t understand why she wasn’t answering. Felicity smiled down at him, and taking a deep breath, she asked, “What exactly did you see, my boy?”

“I told you,” he replied, though his voice was still uneven. “In the alleyway, down near Mrs. O’Neal’s house, between the rows of houses. You know the place?”

“I do.” There was only one alleyway between their home and Timmy’s.

“I saw a black figure, in the shadows. It had gleaming, sharp, white teeth.”

“And what did it do?” Felicity asked, still stroking his head.

James sighed and scrunched up his forehead. “It looked at me, but then it backed away, down deeper into the darkness, until I couldn’t see it any longer.”

Clearing her throat, Felicity asked, “Why do you suppose a Vampire would do such a thing?”

Her child puckered his lips, a face Felicity recognized he often made when deep in thought. “I’m not sure, Mother. Perhaps he was afraid to approach me in the daylight. Maybe he thought someone might see.”

“Perhaps,” Felicity nodded. “Or could it be that he was afraid of you?”

James seemed to consider the possibility. After a moment, he said, “Do you suppose he knows what I am, that is, what I could be one day?”

“Don’t you think he might’ve?” she asked.

James sat up. “Mother, someday, I want to be a Guardian, like Uncle Culpepper, so that I don’t have to be afraid of Vampires any longer.”

Felicity forced a smile, even though she felt her heart rate increase at her child’s proclamation. He was only six and knew very little about the Ternion, the complex balance between Vampires, Hunters, and Guardians. He wouldn’t be capable of Transforming for at least another eleven years, and yet the idea of her son taking on the dangerous task of ridding the world of the evil ones made her anxious. “Jamie, darling,” she began, using his nickname, “if you choose to be a Guardian when you are older, you may do so. But remember, Son, even now you’ve nothing to fear. Uncle Culpepper and his friends are working to keep us safe both day and night, remember?”

He nodded, but his face didn’t show absolute faith in her reminder.

“You know that Uncle Culpepper works for the Guardian Leader, remember?”

“Yes.”

“He is a strong and powerful Guardian, and he always protects his family. And you are his very favorite nephew of all. So, darling, there is no reason for you to fear the darkness, the alleyways, or even the Vampires themselves. You are safe, my love. I promise.”

James nodded, but when his mother handed him the glass of milk, she saw there was still fear in his eyes. For the first time in her life, Felicity Culpepper Joplin wondered if perhaps she had made a mistake in not Transforming herself. What if she was wrong—what if her family really was at risk—and there was nothing she could do about it?